


Mutual

by owlmoose



Series: Pieces of Thedas [7]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Awakening, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlmoose/pseuds/owlmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair has his suspicions about Nathaniel Howe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> This short comes from two sources: first, a couple of ficbits I traded with minorearth on Tumblr, showing Nathaniel's early impressions of King Alistair; then the weekly prompt meme on LJ included the prompt "Respect", which inspired me to show the other side of things. Loosely connected to the Fidelity universe.

It had, in the main, been a pleasant visit to Vigil's Keep: meeting the Warden reinforcements, finally arrived from Orlais; holding court with the nobles to pledge his support and receive theirs in return; checking in with local farmers and soldiers for their version of events; quiet evenings with his love. But one pair of eyes followed Alistair uncomfortably from room to room, and on the last day of his stay, he was finally moved to ask about it.

"Nathaniel Howe doesn't much care for me, does he?"

Sereda shrugged in response. "You're even, then. He doesn't think you like him, either."

Alistair frowned. "That's not true!" he protested. "I just... don't know him, is all. And he doesn't make it easy to try. The way he stands around and glowers all the time -- it's hard to forget that he came here to kill you."

He stroked Sereda beneath the chin, and she chuckled. "That just puts him in company with half of Ferelden. Besides, he'd been away and didn't know the whole story. I don't hold that against him, and neither should you." She shook her head. "All he wants is for people to look at him without seeing his father -- his legacy, his failings. And you, of all people, ought to understand that."

She had hit the mark, all right, and Alistair had to make a real effort not to squirm under her gaze. "All right," he muttered. "I'll make more of an effort. Sit next to him at dinner tonight, perhaps." He turned a smile on her. "If you think he's worth the trouble, there must be something to it." She tipped her head up with an expression that seemed to demand a kiss; he obliged, then pulled her hand through the crook of his elbow, ready to tackle whatever might be next on the agenda.


End file.
